Ice Cream
by montparnassee
Summary: Parentlock, featuring a 16 year old Alexandra Moran Moriarty. Not sure whose character she is originally and Jim.


Alex bit her tongue, glancing round her room. They'd just moved, for the fourth time since the beginning of the year. Wonderful. She knew she shouldn't be upset, she did, but she couldn't help but wish that maybe, perhaps, they could live a normal life. It got old, living with a constant death threat on her head. At least she hadn't had to switch schools this time.

She hated it, but she couldn't tell Jim that. No, of course not. He'd be upset, and he'd try to make it better, and he couldn't. If she was completely honest, her Dad sucked at the whole parenting thing. She could understand, but it wasn't appreciated it. Alex felt bad about it, but most of the time she found herself wishing her Mom was in her life more. She knew her Dads tried, but.. They couldn't come close to Molly. Not in the way she needed them to.

The room was big, incredibly nice. She had her own bathroom, a corner for her bookshelves, and even a flatscreen TV. Not that she watched TV. Her MacBook was resting on her dresser - shut, of course. She had an incredibly open relationship with her fathers - Jim especially, but sometimes she figured they were better left in the dark.

Her phone was plugged in beside it - the latest iPhone, nothing but the best for the Moriarty child. But the walls were plain, and white, and she knew it was futile to paint them. They'd just have to leave in a few months, anyway. She didn't even know if she wanted to waste her time putting up posters.

Sometimes she'd pretend she had a normal life. The way most people fantasize about being famous or royalty, having an adventurous life, she instead dreamed about the ordinary. It was fascinating to her, absolutely fascinating.

"Alex?" The sound started her, and she'd leaped out of her bed before she realized that it was just her Dad, waiting outside her door. "Oh. Dad. I'm sorry." she sighed, dropping back onto the bed. "We were supposed to be leaving, weren't we? I'm not even dressed."

Jim stepped into the room, looking at her, only to chuckle gently. To be fair, she _was _a sight to laugh at, in her duck pajamas and her oversized Star Trek tshirt, and she admitted it. "No, darling." he agreed. "You aren't at all ready. But, screw it, because we were supposed to leave 40 minutes ago, anyway. It's not even your senior graduation, just don't tell your Father and we can skip it."

"Really?" her face lit up with joy, and he nodded. "Yeah, doubt you'll miss much. Hamish is coming over tonight, isn't that right? Were you planning to drive him?"

"No, he's got to work a bit at the clinic, helping John with papers and stuff - was supposed to work a double shift this morning but didn't wake up." her face tinged slightly red. "Suppose that's my fault, in't it?"

Jim shook his head, holding up a hand while murmuring something about not wanting to hear it. "But get changed, baby girl, and we can go get ice-cream or something."

She nodded, smiling a bit. "Or sushi?"

"Sure. Dad's not going to be back till late, so whatever. I'll be in the living room, okay? Take as long as you need."

Alex was grateful for Jim - she really was, and she did love him. It was difficult, though, because the things that strained on their relationship were things that he wasn't aware of. Things that would crush him if he knew. So, of course, she didn't tell him. Never would. He assumed things, of course, when she would blow up, but he always assumed the _wrong _things.

It hadn't taken her long to get ready - all she had to do was slip on a pair of shorts. After a moment of hesitation, she quickly changed into a less baggy t-shirt, and slipped into a pair of heels - at 5'1, she figured, it couldn't hurt. Even with the three inch heel, she was still incredibly short. Whenever they moved, her Dad specifically looked for older houses - houses with lower shelves and cupboards. It was a bit embarrasing - but practical she supposed. She was barely taller than her Mother, though, even with heels. 5'4" was all she was asking for.

"Alex!" Jim's voice pulled her out of her thoughts again. "When I said 'take as long as you need..."

"I'm coming, Dad, Christ!" she laughed, walking - or rather hobbling, she was still trying to get her heel on correctly, out of her room.

Jim may not have been the greatest, most ideal Dad, she decided, but she wouldn't trade him for the world.


End file.
